Why Don't You Hear Me Screaming?
by Midnight Raptor
Summary: Tonight was the night. Tonight you were going to tell Callie Torres that you loved her. But life has its ways of turning everything we've come to know and believe upside down and for the first time in your life, you finally understand what that means.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All I own is this scene.

Chapter 1

You never thought yourself to be the man who crawled into a bottle to escape the world. You were better than that, stronger than that. You took what life threw at you and moved on. You always did.

But life has its ways of turning everything we've come to know and believe upside down and for the first time in your life, you finally understand what that means.

You sit here now, clutching the glass tumbler in front of you like a life raft, like it's the one thing keeping you from loosing all semblance sanity and in all honesty, it probably is. You meant to forget, you wanted to forget and at the time, alcohol seemed like the best solution. But you're well past your sixth glass (you lost track after that) and you're no closer to forgetting than you were before then. Still, that doesn't stop you and you throw back the remaining scotch in your glass and signal for another. Joe looks at you before sneaking a sideways glance at the man occupying the seat beside you at the bar. You scoff silently at Derek's Messiah complex. You were a grown man. You didn't need a baby-sitter. You just wanted to be left the hell alone.

He must've nodded his approval or just given up because Joe proceeds to pour you another glass. By this point, you're working hard to coordinate your movements and it takes all your concentration to raise the tumbler to your lips without sloshing the liquid all over yourself. Your vision's starting to blur and you've tuned out the noise behind you ages ago but somehow the one thing you came here to forget is still as clear as day. You still hear her laugh, smell her skin, see her face. You remember the last time you held her close, stroked her hair, kissed her temple. Every fiber of her being is still with you, still here but you know it's nothing but a memory. Because she isn't coming back no matter how many scotches you drink.

Somehow you've finished your drink again so you tap the glass and watch as Joe refills it without waiting for the go-ahead. Again, you work to lift the tumbler and take a swig of the now distasteful, amber liquid. Somewhere behind you, a familiar female voice breaks the relative silence of the bar but you're too zoned out to make sense of what she says so you ignore her and stare listlessly into your glass instead. A second voice answers, a man's, and it takes a firm shake of your shoulder for you to realize that it's Derek.

"Let's get you home, Mark." You know he's standing right next to you but oddly enough, his voice seems to come from far away, like he's yelling at you from across a football field.

You want to stay, you want to continue to drown yourself in alcohol but you don't have the strength or coordination to resist so you stagger to your feet and allow him to steer you out the door. Outside, the cold winter air hits your face, bringing you out of your alcohol-induced haze long enough to acknowledge the fact that Derek's walking you to his car. He leans you against the side while he fiddles with his keys and you take the moment to close your eyes against the harsh neon lights of Joe's bar.

"Get in." Derek says when he opens the door.

"No." you murmur, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth.

"Mark, get in the car."

"No!" you say a bit stronger, fighting the alcohol swimming in your veins. "I'm not…leaving…I…I can't…" You can't leave because leaving meant going back to an empty apartment without her and you can't deal with that. Not yet.

There's a brief silence and for a second, you think Derek's finally given up and decided to leave you alone. But then you hear him talking to someone and your annoyance rises at the bits of the conversation you manage to catch.

"…take the car…walk with him."

The female voice answers and this time you recognize it as Meredith's.

Derek says something in response but your sluggish brain has exceeded its capacity and you tune him out. The next thing you know, Derek's lifting your arm over his shoulders to support your weight as he proceeds to more or less drag you down the sidewalk.

A voice calls out.

Derek stops to look behind him and therefore so do you although everything you see is a blurry, incoherent mess.

"We're fine, Owen. Good night." With that, he turns both of you back around to continue down the street.

You stumble over your feet and you can tell Derek's struggling to keep you upright. "Le' go o' me…" you mumble but it comes out sounding like someone stuffed a wad of cotton in your mouth.

Derek pays no attention to you and just keeps walking with you in tow. Eventually, you manage to regain control of your legs although not without a great deal of concentration on your part. You seem to walk for miles, Derek half dragging you forward through the empty streets and slowly, due to the alcohol, biting cold, your tired body, or something else you can't quite place at the moment, you begin to forget but not in the way that you'd like. The streets start to blur together, passing cars are nothing but shadows rushing by. Time holds no meaning for you as does distance. You could've been walking in circles on the moon and it would've made no difference to you. The only thing that does manage to distinguish itself from the haze is her and you find little comfort in that. Because you were a coward. Because you had decided to wait. And you hate yourself for that.

"Callie." You hear your voice echo in your ears but it sounds foreign to you, rough, broken. "Callie! I need…I need t' talk t' her…I need to…" you mumble. Then you get an idea. Your clumsy fingers start to root around in your pockets. "Where's my phone?" You mutter unintelligible curses as you try to locate the device which you find in your jacket's inside pocket. Channeling all of your attention on the tiny buttons, you manage to dial her number and raise the phone to your ear. "She needs t' know…she…" She'll answer. She has to answer. But the line just rings a few times then stops, leaving you to hear nothing but silence.

A hand reaches over and gently lowers the phone and you realize Derek's still with you. "Come on, Mark." he says quietly. "Just keep walking."

And you do. But your mind is racing a hundred miles a minute. You don't understand. She should've answered. You should've heard her voice and yet all you heard was nothing.

"Where is she?" you ask no one in particular as you run your hands through your hair. "Callie! Callie, please! I have t' tell her…she has t' know…she…she has to…where is she?" You stagger ahead of Derek and start scanning the empty streets frantically like she'll come walking down one of them in a second. "Callie! I wanna see her! I wanna see her!"

Derek catches up to you and forces you to stop. "Mark, calm down."

"I want to see her!" you yell with everything you have in you, spinning around to grab Derek by the shoulders.

He looks at you for a moment, completely unfazed by your outburst. "Okay." he says finally. "Okay. We'll see her."

You let out your breath like a winded bull, grateful that Derek was finally listening to you. He steps away and takes out his phone, leaving you to lean heavily on a stop sign. You were going to tell her. You were going to tell her what you should've told her all those months ago. What you felt but were too afraid to say out loud. She was your best friend. You were good together and you didn't want to screw that up so you said nothing. And you paid for that now.

Just then, Derek tugs on your arm and you reluctantly leave your position next to the stop sign and duck into the cab that had appeared on the side of the road. Your cold, tired body immediately relaxes into the seat and you allow your head to fall back against the headrest, paying no attention to Derek as he gives the cabbie the address. The copious amounts of alcohol pumping through your veins begins to catch up to you and you offer little resistance when your eyelids start to close.

* * *

A/N: I'd love to hear any thoughts. :)


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hi guys! Part 2 here. Sorry it took a while. I got sick after Christmas so I've been feeling pretty lousy. But I got it done. The italics means flashback. Hope you all enjoy it. :)

Disclaimer: If I owned Grey's Anatomy, Arizona wouldn't have gone to Africa and broken Callie's heart. But since she did, I took some liberties and wrote this. But this, sadly, is all I own.

Chapter 2

_You're not quite sure what you're doing drinking a bottle of beer at 11:30 at night but the glass bottle keeps your nervously twisting hands occupied at least for the time being so you don't give it too much thought. As it is, you could probably use the liquid courage considering what you're about to do. For the millionth time that night, your eyes scan your apartment, as if you'll somehow catch something that you missed the other million times. _Get it together, Sloan,_ you say silently. _You're going to give yourself an ulcer.

_Still, you can't help it. Tonight was the night. Tonight you were going to tell Callie Torres that you loved her. It had been a long time coming, a very long time and looking back, you find it ironic that this is where you've found yourself. _

_It started innocently enough. An uncomplicated one-night stand and you certainly didn't mind when it managed to transform into a strictly "friends-with-benefits" affair even when the "friends" aspect slowly began to take over. She was beautiful, she was smart, she was challenging. Why wouldn't you love spending time with her? But you were different then. Sex was sex, friends were friends, and relationships had no place in your life. _

_And then you fell in love. Not with her but with Lexie Grey and for a while you were happy. But you wanted different things. It wasn't a sin. It was just how things managed to work out. Still, to her credit, she showed you that you were capable of growing up and being an adult, something that had evaded you until then. So you parted ways and even though it took a while, you moved on. Life moved on, you knew that, so you saw no sense in holding yourself in the past._

_You were just getting back into your life as a bachelor, as Seattle Grace-Mercy West's very own womanizing manwhore when the shooting happened. Sure, you were scared for yourself, for everyone else in the hospital. But curiously enough, the one thought, the one name that replayed in your head during that whole ordeal was _Callie_. Even when you heard that Derek had been shot, she still gnawed at your mind, making it nearly impossible for you to focus until you saw her running towards you and felt her arms wrap around your neck afterwards. You told yourself it was normal. She was your best friend, for chrissake. Of course you cared about her. Still, there was something about the sickening feeling that entered your gut when you hadn't known if she was hurt or not that confused you simply because you had never felt that sense of panic before. Whatever it was, you pushed it down and went on to put your life back together along with everyone else._

_You had just managed to put it past you when Arizona up and left, leaving Callie heartbroken and a small part deep in your traitorous heart to enroll in a trampoline session at the blonde surgeon's absence. Of course, you let her move in with you because who were you to argue? She had you wrapped around her finger tighter than she could imagine. You weren't quite sure you liked what your mind was telling you but when she turned to you with those gorgeous, ebony eyes and told you she wanted sorbet, you knew you couldn't say no. And just like that, you fell back into your original routine, best friends by day, lovers by night. _

_But it was different this time. The sex was just as good as before, better even, but somehow you found yourself wanting more and as the weeks wore on, nothing you did seemed to change that. You were falling in love with Callie Torres and you didn't have the slightest clue of what to do. You thought that you could just ignore it, continue on like how you always had, whatever because then maybe it'd just go away. But the longer you went on emotionally blocking her out, the more it became clear to you that it wasn't going away. So, you had a choice. Say nothing and continue to enjoy your uncomplicated arrangement or tell her how you felt and risk potentially loosing your best friend and the woman you loved._

_In the end, you chose the latter. Life was too short to be spent thinking of the what ifs. So you decided you'd tell her on Valentine's Day. Not because you were a romantic (you hated that holiday) but because she was and she loved the hearts and the flowers and the dinners by candle light unless, of course, she was single (which she was, thanks to a certain perky peds surgeon) in which case, she hated the holiday with a passion. But you were determined to give her a reason to love February 14 this year. So you planned it out, the flowers, the dinner, the candles, all of it. And in the early hours of the morning on February 14, you would tell her what you had been keeping silent for the past several months._

_But right now, it's February 13 and you're waiting somewhat nervously for her to come home from her emergency trauma surgery. A million worries start to crowd your brain. What if she's too tired from surgery and just wants to go to sleep? What if the pasta is now so cold that not even the microwave can heat it up? What if she shoots you down and leaves Seattle, forever hating you for ruining what you had? _

_You gulp down the rest of your beer. _Oh, shut up, Sloan. You can be such a woman sometimes.

_Just then, your cell phone rings, pulling you out from your thoughts. You answer without looking to see who it is._

"_Hello?"_

"_Mark?" It's Meredith which you find slightly odd considering the fact that she's called you a total of five times since you met but you brush it off and let her continue. "There's been an accident."_

_At this, you bolt upright. _No. Please don't say it, _you beg silently._

"_Callie…she—" _

_You swear your heart stops during the second it took her to say her name. "Is she okay? What happened?"_

"_I don't know." replies Meredith, her voice calm but urgent. "Owen just called Derek in for a consult. He's leaving right now."_

_You take a moment to close your eyes, digesting what you just heard. Derek was called and when Seattle Grace's best neurosurgeon is called for a consult, it's never a good thing. A million thoughts race through your head and not one of them offers you any comfort. Then you remember that Meredith is still on the other end so you swallow the lump that had formed in your throat and manage to choke out a strangled, "Thank you." before grabbing your keys and bolting out the door. _

_Your arrive at the hospital in record time, having broken the speed limit and miraculously dodged the black ice. Leaving your car parked haphazardly in the staff lot, you race for the ER, all the while silently chanting that she's okay._

"_Kepner!" you bellow once you step foot inside._

_The resident jumps in surprise. "Dr. Sloan! Wh-what're—"_

"_Where'd they take Torres?" You don't have time for her stuttering._

_Her eyes go wide with apprehension and you see her hesitate for a split second. "OR 1. Dr. Hunt—"_

_But you're already sprinting past, praying to whatever higher power that existed for her to just hold on. _

"Mark, wake up."

You let out an incoherent grumble, not feeling in any mood to move from your current position.

But apparently, someone has other ideas. "Mark." they repeat, sharply shaking your arm a few times.

Irritated, you open your eyes and find yourself staring at the back of a car's driver's seat.

"We're here." Derek informs you as he leans forward to pay the cabbie.

Here. It takes you all but several seconds for you realize what he means. Not for the first time that day, your stomach twists into an uncomfortable knot and you fight the urge to get up and run. Somewhere, anywhere you don't care. Just anywhere but here. But you can't because then you'd never stop and she wouldn't want you to live like that. So you drag yourself out of the car, fighting the alcohol and fatigue weighing you down, and step out into the cold night air.

You lean against the door for a moment as the world around you starts to spin in maddening circles but eventually it subsides and you push away from the taxi with a heavy sigh. Walking around the car, you see Derek climb out and turn to you, his face immovably solemn. You continue past him and he falls into step beside you and you now find his presence a comfort rather than a nuisance. This is only your second time here and yet you seem to know the way without even consciously thinking about it. Snow-soaked grass slides beneath your feet as you wind your way through the stone and marble, the full moon above lighting your path.

You circle around a giant granite cross and finally, you see her. You feel Derek stop but you continue on like a moth drawn to a flame. Your mouth has suddenly gone dry and a lump has lodged itself in your throat but you pay no attention to either sensation. Carefully, you step closer, your footsteps light as if you're afraid of disturbing the freshly upturned dirt. You stand there for a moment, the whole time your eyes never leaving the handsomely engraved dark marble despite the overwhelming pain that washes over you upon seeing it.

Slowly, you sink to your knees, not caring that the dirt was probably going to stain your pants, and find yourself eye to eye with the stone slab. Tears start to prickle your eyes but you fight to keep them at bay. However, the one thing you can't seem keep yourself from doing is forget and so when you close your eyes to blink back the tears, you find yourself going back to the moment that shattered your life as you knew it.

_You burst into the scrub room to find Derek already soaping his hands._

"_What're you doing?" he asks when you grab a soap packet and tear it open._

"_Scrubbing in." Looking through the window into the OR, you see her lying on the table, Hunt and his team working furiously to save her. You feel your heart clench._

_Derek stops his movements and turns to face you. "Like hell you are. You're not stepping foot in that OR."_

"_Don't tell me what to do, Shepherd." you growl as you turn on the faucet. _

"_This isn't for your sake. It's for Callie's." he snaps back. His voice softens when he continues. "I know you love her and if you go in there not thinking straight, you'll do more harm than good. So right now, you're family and you'll sit in the waiting room until we're finished. Right now, you are not a surgeon. Am I clear?"_

_You force yourself to look at him, duly noting the fact that that he had called you out on your feelings for her. Apparently, you weren't as good at hiding it as you thought. You're about to deliver a half-serious, half-joking threat that he better save her or you'll kill him when a single, steady beep echoes loudly from the OR._

"_V-fib!" Hunt yells, taking in the monitor above them. "She's crashing! Paddles!"_

"_Callie!" You make for the door leading to the OR but Derek shoves you forcefully back, preventing you from getting past him. _

"_Mark, no! You're not sterile!"_

_Inside, Hunt had gotten hold of the defibrillator. "Charging, 300! Clear!"_

_The shock is delivered but she continues to code._

_You struggle against Derek but the man had a death grip on you. "Callie! I'm right here!"_

"_Charge to 350! Push one of atropine, one of epi! Clear!"_

_Again, nothing._

"_Callie! CALLIE!" You can her your own voice echoing in your ears. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. You see Hunt move to shock her again and again then switch to chest compressions when she still doesn't respond. You scream her name over and over, fighting Derek with every fiber of your being but he keeps you back. You feel the tears streaking down your face, a sensation so foreign too you but you don't give it any thought. _

_Then…everyone goes silent. No one moves, not even Hunt. You're still yelling, now louder than ever. _What the hell were they doing? They have to save her. They have to_. And then you see Hunt open his mouth and say the four words no doctor ever wants to say._

"_Time of death, 24:03."_

"_CALLIE!" You wrench yourself from Derek's grip who does nothing to stop you as you barrel into the OR, pushing through the nurses and staggering to her side. And there she is. Apart from the cuts that pepper her face, she looks exactly like how you saw her just several hours ago. In fact, if it hadn't been for the tube in her mouth, you would've thought she was just sleeping. But you know she isn't sleeping. You reach over to stroke her hair, her soft, silky hair and loose whatever composure you had in you, tears streaming down your face. Your legs give out from under you and you fall to your knees still cradling her head in your hands. _

_This isn't how it was supposed to be. She was supposed to come home to you, to the mediocre dinner you had agonized over for hours thanks to your limited culinary abilities. You were supposed to eat, share a few glasses of wine, curl up together on the couch. You were supposed to tell her how beautiful she was, that she was the best thing that ever happened to you, that you couldn't go on another day keeping this hidden because everyday that you did killed you inside. You were supposed to tell her you loved her, that you always loved her, that you will always love her because she was your best friend, your partner, your soul mate. She was supposed to flash you her million dollar smile as you kissed her like she was the only thing that mattered and carried her to your bedroom where you would make love to her as you had never done to anyone before. _

_That was how it was supposed to be. But instead she's lying in the OR and everything that you wanted to say now falls on her deaf ears. _

Your eyes fly open, leaving you to stare at the reminder of your cowardice. Raising a hand, you run your fingers lightly over the engraving.

_Calliope "Callie" Iphigenia Torres_

_May 16, 1975 - February 14, 2011_

_Loving daughter, sister, friend_

_Amado para siempre, perdido para siempre_

The stone was beautifully made but with her family being one of the wealthiest in all of Florida, it's hardly a surprise. Despite what they had gone through in the past, her family loved her and so Carlos Torres had pulled every string he knew to get his daughter the best. The ghost of a smile pulls at your lips as you remember your encounter with the man just several hours ago.

_The service had just ended and you watch as family and friends of the Torres's all stand to place a rose on the coffin. You know you should get up to do the same but somehow, you can't seem to get your legs to work so you just sit there, your hands fiddling with the single white rose. Just then, a hand claps your shoulder and you look up to see Derek and Meredith standing next to you. Derek nods at the coffin then turns back to you. Meredith smiles encouragingly, a gesture you appreciate but can't seem to accept. Still, you get yourself to stand and, with heavy feet, make your way to the coffin, Derek's hand still grasping your shoulder. You step up, right to the edge and look down at the shining mahogany already draped in roses. It hurts you more than you can describe to think that beneath that polished wood lies the woman you love, her beautiful face still and cold. But your eyes never leave it as you cast your rose with the rest, watching as it falls and lands perfectly in the middle._

_Tearing your gaze away, you see her father standing to the side, accepting the condolences of those who offered them. He looked tired not just physically but emotionally as well, like a man who had just lived through a thousand wars and in a way, you suppose he had. Suddenly, you're turning your back to Derek and Meredith and find yourself walking towards him._

"_Mr. Torres?"_

_He turns to look at you, his expression unreadable. "Mark Sloan."_

"_You remember?" you reply, flashing a small smile, the first smile you had allowed yourself since before the accident. You weren't sure you had left a very positive impression on the man the last time you saw him. _

"_Of course I remember. It's not everyday I threaten a man by shoving him against a wall." He offers you a fond smile of his own and you relax a little in his presence. "Thank you for coming."_

_You shove your hands in your pockets. Suddenly, you're not quite sure why you wanted to speak to him in the first place. "Your daughter and I, we… we were best friends. Are best friends." you correct yourself, your eyes downcast._

_There's a short pause. "But you wanted to be more than that."_

_It was a statement, not a question and you look up sharply at his reply. His eyes are dark and soft, just like his daughter's, and he's looking at you with the perceptiveness only a father who's spent a lifetime reading his children's faces would have. "I never told her." you admit quietly. "I wasn't even sure she felt the same way." _

"_It's not too late."_

_You shake your head and you've never felt more useless in your life. "What am I supposed to say? I've never been good at…" You glance at the people still gathering around her coffin. "This. I never had a family like yours. One that taught you how to love and how to be loved. One you could call and talk to every Sunday just because you felt like it. I was lucky enough if I even managed to see my parents at dinner. I never did relationships because I was never good at them."_

"_A friendship is a relationship." he replies seriously. "You were committed to Calliope. And she was committed to you."_

"_It's…"_ It's not the same_, you want to tell him but the words die on your lips so instead you say, "I was going to tell her. That night that she—" You stop yourself from saying it, the pain already unbearable. "I was going to tell her. So what do I tell her now that I've lost my chance?"_

_He's looking at you again like he's trying to figure you out right there. "Do you love her?" he asks at a length._

"_More than anything I've ever known." you answer, looking him straight in the eyes, and you've never been more sure of anything in your life. _

_His face softens at your response and he places a hand lightly on your arm. "Then tell her that." He then walks past you to where his wife and other daughter are standing and you turn to watch him. He's scarcely gone a few steps when he stops to face you again. "And she did love you, Mark." he adds so quietly you're tempted to think you imagined it._

_Your heart falters for a second. "How do you know?"_

_He smiles knowingly like there are secrets that should only be kept between him and his daughter. "I'm her father. I always knew." And with that, he heads back to his family, leaving you to stare after him._

You find it ironic that you were able to say all that to her father. Fathers hated you. Fathers chased you out of their houses with shotguns and dogs. And yet, here you are having survived your second encounter with her father and it was because of him that you now find yourself kneeling in front of her headstone in the middle of the night. But you shouldn't be here, not like this, not when there was still so much you both could've shared. Only you are. You are here and this isn't some twisted dream you can't seem to wake from. This is reality. Your reality. As much as you wish that isn't so.

You stare back at the shining marble and its immaculate engraving and let out a weary sigh, the pain ripping through you with renewed fury. You hadn't slept much the last few days nor had you eaten anything truly substantial and you now feel that fatigue in every bone and muscle in your body. You were tired. You were tired of the pitying looks everyone threw you at the hospital. You were tired of going home to a silent apartment, her scent and presence still lingering in the air. You were tired of your friends tip-toeing around you like you were made of fucking glass. You were so goddamn tired of everything and yet you couldn't find any peace with anything that had happened.

"_And she did love you, Mark."_

Her father's words from earlier come rushing back and you wish more than anything that she had been the one to say them to you instead. But you know that's never going to happen and you're here to finally accept that.

"Cal?" You still feel the alcohol slurring your words but you fight to keep yourself coherent. "I need to tell you something. And I hope you forgive me for saying this now but I need to move on and I know you'd want me to. This is just the only way I know how." You take a steadying breath, your heart pounding madly against your chest, and say the words that have been haunting you for the past few months. "I love you. So much. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I'm so sorry…I'm sorry…I…" You choke on your words, giving in to the tears rolling down your face. "I love you, Callie. Always have, always will."

All at once, you feel lighter like a huge weight had just been lifted from your chest. You've never believed in God or an afterlife or heaven and hell and if it were up to you, talking to a piece of marble was a waste of time. But she believed and that's enough for you so you hope that wherever she is, she heard you because, if nothing else, you need to believe that she did. Because then you'd be able to live with yourself and you need that more than anything right now.

Leaning forward, you place a soft kiss on the cold marble before heaving yourself to your feet, wiping the tears from your eyes as you did so. You feel a hand come to rest on your shoulder and you remember that Derek's still with you. For a moment, you just stand there, looking down at the stone slab with resignation and acceptance. You had said your part. You said it and there was nothing more you could do except try to move on even if it hurt, even if it killed you.

"I'll do it for you, Callie." you say softly into the cold February air. "I'll do it for you."

You then breathe a heavy sigh and bow your head before turning and walking away.

* * *

A/N: And there you have it. In case you're wondering, the inscription in Spanish on Callie's headstone says "Forever loved, forever missed" or something to that effect. At least that's what the online translator and my 10 years of Spanish education came up with. XD Anyways, please leave a review and tell me what you think. I really do appreciate them. Until next time. :)


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